Lean On Me
by panicattackkisses
Summary: My take on what happpened after Stiles and Lydia were trapped by Brunski. Short and sweet, as always.


When Deputy Parrish ushered Stiles and Lydia into his patrol car that night, they were adamant that they did not need to go to the hospital. Police were called to the scene at Eichen House and he was determined to get the two teens out unnoticed.  
They also told him that Lydia was going to Stiles' house, not her own. When the young officer asked 'why?' with a frown, they pair simply told him that they needed each other. It was easier that way.  
When he watched the strawberry blonde rest her head on the boys shoulder and close her eyes, he didn't argue any longer- thoughts of Lydia's mother and how she may be worried left his head as Stiles took the girls hand in his and held it tight.

The Stilinski household was empty as Parrish pulled up to the drive. The sheriff's car was gone and most likely on its way to the same place they had just left. He watched with a heavy heart as Stiles and Lydia walked up the path to the door – hand in hand and clinging to each other.  
He rolled his window down and told the boy to get ice on his cheek. Stiles smiled tiredly in reply and nodded in agreement.  
Lydia swayed slightly on her feet as the effects of whatever drug Brunski injected her with slowly left her system.  
Her body was supported by Stiles as he opened the front door and gently led her inside.  
Only when the door was safely closed did the deputy drive away.

The ice stung the quickly forming bruise on Stiles' cheek and Lydia winced at the boy's pain – their bodies reacting together as if they shared the same injuries. With their tether growing stronger by the day, sometimes, Lydia wondered if it was a possibility.  
The girl sat on the couch next to Stiles, softly taking his hand in hers as she eased the ice pack away from him. Shuffling out of her cardigan with numb arms, she wrapped the pack in the soft material.  
With shaking hands, she raised it back to his cheek and the plush fabric was a welcome relief to the boy as the cold slowly seeped through and soothed him.  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being a ticking clock from somewhere upstairs. The sound echoed through Lydia's head and voices from before flew back to her, mixed with wails and screams of someone she knew long ago.  
She wasn't aware that she was crying until Stiles took the ice away from her and pulled her limp body into his lap. He shuffled awkwardly with her until they sat nestled into the corner of the sofa and her head rested upon his shoulder.  
Stiles wrapped his arms around the girl's small frame, the shakes and tremors that emitted from her scared him in ways he couldn't describe.  
He soothed her with soft, gentle words and comforting touches until she seemed to calm. Lydia wiped her eyes and the action alone exhausted her. She fell back into the boys embrace and clung to his shirt as she looked up at him with wide, watery eyes.

Stiles gazed back down with despair – anger because he had let Lydia get hurt, frustration, because he couldn't take her pain away and the overwhelming urge to hold her and never let her go.  
With a fire in his heart and more determination than he had felt that day, he slowly stood up from his seat, taking Lydia with him as he bundled her into his arms.  
Surprise was evident in her features and voice as she softly asked him what he was doing.  
When he told her they were going upstairs to sleep, to take a nap, she didn't argue.

They wrapped themselves up in each other in Stiles' bed, the other never getting as close as they wanted – as they needed. Not an inch was left between them and Lydia ran a gentle finger across the purple bruise that had formed on the boy's cheek. She told him that she hated seeing him hurt and he had nodded in return, whispering, 'I know'.  
He knew she didn't and he believed her whole heartedly. He knew this because he felt the same pain that she did when the other was in trouble. They were linked entirely and it was both amazingly wonderful and yet so horrible. They shared the same agony and worry – yet – during times like this, intertwined together; they never felt better, more at ease. Completely and utterly content in each other's arms.

When they eventually fell asleep, heavy from aches and limp with exhaustion – they never let go of one another. On the sheriff's return, he found Stiles cradling Lydia to him, his finger soothing over her mussed curls subconsciously. Their gentle breaths fell and rose together.  
The girl clung to his Son with the same need in her sleep as she did when awake. Closing the bedroom door quietly, the older man left them together to rest and recover in the way that only they did – leaning on each other.


End file.
